Avengers Fanfiction 1
by jediclarinetist
Summary: After the Civil War, Wanda Maximoff is traveling with the rest of team Cap, and Cap wants to establish the West Coast Avengers. They come across a problem, however, and that problem's name is Loki Laufeyson. The trickster god seems to want to play a trick on the group, but the trick will not have as negative an impact as they might think... Wanda/Bucky, Steve/Howard Stark
1. Chapter 1

I woke up to see sunlight streaming through the cheap orange plastic of the tent. The sleeping bag beside me was empty, so I assumed that Bucky had already left the tent. The morning air was brisk, and I was reluctant to exit my sleeping bag. I was traveling across the country with Captain America, Hawkeye, Ant-Man,the Winter Soldier (who no longer had Winter Soldier implants in his brain) and the Falcon. The captain wanted to establish a new Avengers organization called the West Coast Avengers- I guess he wasn't optimistic about the future of his friendship with Stark, or perhaps he still had a conflict with him as I did. But in any case, Steve wanted to found his own group of Avengers on the West Coast, specifically L.A. I wished we could just fly there. But the captain does not have the resources of Tony Stark, unfortunately.

Finally I mustered the energy to extricate myself from my sleeping bag and get dressed in a warm black coat and torn olive-colored jeans. I exited my tent. It must have been eight, eight-thirty, so everyone else was up and eating, except Scott, who was probably still snoring in his tent.

"Hey, Wanda," Cap greeted me, looking sullen. "Loki just appeared."

"Who is Loki?" I asked.

"A psychotic evil-doer," responded Clint drily. Apparently Loki was not his favorite person.

"He tried to take over the world," added Steve. "But after his plan failed, I thought Thor brought him back to Asgard and he was punished."

"Guess not," said Sam. "What do we do about it?"

"Nothing, I guess," replied Steve. "He appeared when I woke up, right in front of me, and told me that it was 'time for a little mischief'."

"That's not concerning," said Clint.

"Why does that mean we can't do anything?" I remembered vaguely that Loki was an evil god in Norse mythology, that he was supposed to start Ragnarok.

"Because he disappeared."

"He'll come back," replied Sam optimistically. "Right?"

"I don't know why you're hoping that happens," said Clint sarcastically, "but stop."

"Sam's right," said Cap. "We're safer if we know where Loki is, than if we don't know where he is, why he's here, or what he's planning to do."

Bucky just looked confused. "Wait, who's Loki?" I settled beside him, resting my head on his metal shoulder.

Clint gave him a scathing look. "An evil man in evil clothes who's apparently come back to do a few more tricks. As though the first time wasn't enough."

"What did Loki do to you?" I asked, it being clear that Clint had a personal problem with the trickster god.

"Remember when I told you that I had already been through the mind control thing, that I wasn't a fan?"

"He controlled your mind." I paused. "I like this guy already."

"He's evil, Wanda," Steve reminded me, smiling nonetheless.

Bucky shrugged, his new metal arm flexing with the motion. "Whatever. When the trouble comes, it comes. No sense worrying." The arm had been a gift from T'Challa, the king of Wakanda. It still had a star on the shoulder, but now it was white instead of red, possibly to indicate his affiliation with Captain America.

Scott came out of the blue plastic tent that he shared with Sam, yawning and stretching. He was very unshaven, and smelled like a pig that had rolled in AXE body spray. I didn't know which was worse: the pig part, or the AXE part. It was a sharp contrast with Bucky, who always smelled like maple syrup(weird, I know), or with Cap, who smelled like lemon shampoo. It is difficult to shower while you're camping, but you couldn't not shower, right? Especially when there are people like Steve or Bucky around.

"What's going on?" asked Scott, suddenly realizing that he was being stared at.

"Loki's back," said Clint. "Also, you smell terrible. Though I'm sure you would be attractive to a vulture prostitute."

"Thank… you?" replied Scott, uncertain.

"Not a compliment," I told him, wrinkling my nose.

"I thought girls liked this stuff," he protested.

"We do not."

"Good to know," he muttered, getting a half-eaten protein bar from the bag. "Aw, man! Peanut butter?"

"What's wrong with peanut butter?" asked Bucky. "It's the stuff of my childhood. Though I have to admit, it tastes much better now."

"Peanut butter existed when you were a kid?" asked Sam.

"Yes. It was invented in 1895."

"Huh."

"Well, I don't like it," replied Scott childishly.

"You must make PB&J's for your daughter," insisted Clint. "How can you not?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't eat them. Also, I don't exactly have custody of her, so…"

"That's nice. How are we going to deal with… um…" Cap trailed off as three figures appeared out of nowhere in a cloud of black mist. One was female, with dark curly hair and a pissed-off expression. The second had tan skin and an old-fashioned moustache, and the third was...

"Pietro," I gasped, looking at my brother's face, the real one, for the first time in two years. My heart almost stopped, I swear it did. But after that it swelled, and I ran to him, embracing him, smelling his cat-like scent and crying. I couldn't stop crying.

"Hey, Wanda. It's OK," said Pietro, smiling into my hair. "I'm here now."

"I missed you so so much," I exclaimed, my voice muffled by his shirt. He was wearing the same shirt he had been when he died, but it was not stained with blood. In fact, he looked and felt remarkably alive. His muscles were just as warm and comforting as I remembered them.

In the background I heard Cap say, "Peggy? Howard?" I didn't know who these Peggy and Howard people were and I didn't care. I had my brother back, and the whole rest of the world was shut out.


	2. Chapter 2

After I finished my reunion with my brother, who hadn't changed a bit, I learned that the other people brought back to life by Loki were Steve's friends from World War Two, Peggy Carter and Howard Stark, who also happened to be Tony's dad. I wondered vaguely how Cap had felt about that when he had come into the twenty-first century, especially when Tony was less than friendly to him. Based on the looks Bucky was giving him, I assumed that Steve and Peggy had been in a romantic relationship; however, this did not seem to be the direction of Cap's thoughts. It seemed as though they should get their communication issues resolved, or else there would be trouble.

"So is this really Loki's idea of trouble?" asked Sam skeptically. "Doesn't seem so evil to me."

"No…" I responded, wondering at it. Was Loki really the evil force as the myths portrayed him?

Steve looked uncomfortable. Although Peggy wasn't exactly throwing herself at him, her assumption seemed to be that they were romantically involved. I suppose that Steve thought that the interaction between him and Peggy _would_ be trouble. I couldn't tell who he was thinking about instead, though. I remembered that he kissed Peggy's niece, Sharon. But was that really enough to cause real issues?

Pietro sat next to me, giving Bucky a look that strongly discouraged any 'funny business'. My brother could so often be overprotective, and it was annoying sometimes. But I couldn't bring myself to be actually irritated with him, because I had just gotten him back.

"So is anyone else wondering how Loki brought these people back to life?" asked Bucky, sounding a little bit suspicious. "I mean, if he has control over life and death…"

"You're right," said Steve, his eyes wide with alarm. "This must have been a ruse to give us a false sense of security. He must be planning something terrible."

"Not necessarily," I protested. I didn't want to believe anything bad about the one who had brought my brother back to life. "He could have just been being nice. His daughter is the goddess of the dead. Maybe he convinced her to do it."

Clint snorted. "Loki? A father? I don't think so. No, you've been reading too many Norse myth books. They're not the same stories."

"We can't discount the possibility," I argued. " _Some_ of the stories are the same."

"What are you guys talking about?" asked Scott, who had been distracted by his protein bar for the last twenty minutes(apparently he didn't like peanut butter).

"Loki," replied Clint and Steve at the same time.

"Chill out. Nothing is going to happen unless it does." Wise words from the man who smelled as though he could attract a vulture prostitute.

"Dude, take a _shower_ ," responded Clint sardonically.

"Easier said than done! We're _camping,_ " he whined.

"And yet Wanda smells like strawberries," commented Bucky. I blushed. Pietro shot Bucky a harsh stare.

"Wanda's right," said Cap, ignoring the other conversation. "If Loki's daughter is the goddess of the dead, she could be an even more potent enemy than her father."

"Why do you guys always assume people are your enemy?" asked Howard. "Maybe she'll be a nice-looking girl in a short dress."

"Yeah," said Sam, who appeared to be playing Flappy Bird on his iPhone. "Jeez, Cap."

"How do we deal with this?" questioned Bucky, who was one of the few still paying attention.

"We don't," I responded drily. All of their American accents were driving me mad. "Either Loki will do something bad or he won't. We can't do a thing about it." I left the campsite, irritation like a bumblebee within my chest. I heard rustling behind me, but I didn't turn around, I just continued to walk away. After a minute or two, I sat down beneath some sort of willow tree and just breathed, the cold wind blowing through my long brown hair. It was peaceful out here.

After a few minutes, Bucky approached me, cautiously. "Wanda, are you alright?"

"Yeah," I sighed. I didn't know what had gotten into me. All of a sudden, I was just so… angry. And then, just as suddenly, I wasn't.

He sat next to me, putting his human hand on mine. It was warm and rough, a worker's hand.

"You should put on lotion," I murmured, resting my head on his shoulder, the star pressing into my temple.

"Not readily available," he chuckled quietly. He sobered, and asked again, "So you're OK, then?"

"Yeah, I am." The wind raged on.

"Good," he said, grinning and slipping his hand around my waist, running it down my hip. Even his metal hand was warm, strangely. It was such an odd sensation, the asymmetry of his hands, how one was smooth and hard, the other rough and fleshy. His breath was warm on my neck. I closed my eyes and smelled his maple syrup hair. I felt a rough hand slip up my shirt, tugging at my bra.

"Bucky, that's enough," I said, pulling away from him.

He took the rejection gracefully, smirking at me at, not letting his disappointment show on his face. But I could feel it coming off him in waves. Such demanding hands they were.


End file.
